by Nancy Kelley
Darcy shifted in his seat. "Did she not already answer that question? We walked, and talked as we walked, and as we paid more attention to our conversation than to where we were going, we were soon far from Longbourn."
Bingley tapped his fingers on the side of his glass. "I do seem to recall a time when the lady would not have tolerated your presence for that long."
Darcy could not suppress a smile. "Thankfully, that time is past."
Bingley lowered his glass. "Darcy? Is there something you wish to share?"
Darcy considered for a moment. He had not intended to tell anyone until the information became public, but there was no doubt in his mind that Elizabeth was telling Jane even as they spoke. "I have asked Miss Elizabeth to marry me, and she has accepted."
For the first time, Darcy had the pleasure of seeing his friend absolutely speechless. Bingley opened and closed his mouth several times before he finally took a large swig of his port and immediately rose to refill the glass, downing that quickly as well.
"Darcy, I think there is something amiss with my hearing. Did you just tell me that you have proposed to Miss Elizabeth?"
"I did."
Bingley leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "Sister to Jane Bennet?"
"The very same."
"Whose relations you thought beneath me?"
Darcy squirmed. "I admit that, yes."
"Tell me, what could possibly induce you to make a match you deemed unsuitable for me?"
"It was hypocritical of me, I confess."
"I am glad you see that."
The sarcasm was unmistakable. "In my defense, Bingley, when I kept you from Jane last winter I was equally eager to get away from Elizabeth. It was only when I met her in Kent last spring that I realized my... affections could not be swept away as neatly as I had hoped."
"Last spring?" Bingley frowned. "Was that why you were in such poor spirits when you returned to town?"
Darcy sighed--he had not intended to mention Rosings. At this point, I might as well make a clean breast of it. "Yes. I proposed to Elizabeth once before in Kent, and she pointed out the same flaws in my reasoning that you just highlighted. She refused me."
"She never did!" Bingley rocked back on his heels, a smile spreading across his face. "Well, Jane does say she is quite independent."
Darcy smiled wryly. "Very much so."
Bingley straightened and stared at Darcy. "But if you proposed in April, then when she came to Derbyshire--"
"I had not seen her since the morning after she refused me." Darcy swallowed--despite their recent understanding, he still could not think of that day without pain. "I assure you, it was awkward for both of us. However, if we had not met her there, neither of us would have been reunited with our ladies. It was that encounter which convinced me we must return to Hertfordshire."
"I did not know I owed all my good fortune to chance."
"Not chance, Bingley--Providence. For if I had not left you at the posting inn on the way to Pemberley--do you recall?" Bingley nodded. "If I had been but a half hour later coming to Pemberley, I should not have known she was in the country. That is too great a coincidence to be the work of chance, do you not agree?"
"Quite so."
The gentlemen soon returned to their private thoughts, but the next morning saw a rejuvenation of Bingley's fine spirits. "I do believe I am in your debt, Darcy," he said over breakfast.
"How so?"
"News of your engagement will surely take attention from my own. Why, your ten thousand a year will quite put my mere five thousand in the shade!" He laughed when Darcy groaned. "There is no avoiding the inevitable, my friend. You will certainly be Mrs. Bennet's favorite son-in-law."
"I am willing to be the second favorite. Perhaps I might do something as shocking as immigrate to the Americas." Bingley's jaw dropped, and it was Darcy's turn to laugh. "Ah! I see you had not thought of every possibility before teasing me, Bingley. Let that be a lesson to you."
"Darcy, you would not..." Bingley recovered himself. "But of course you would not leave Pemberley or Georgiana."
"No, I am afraid leaving the country is not an option, even if I wished it, or Elizabeth would agree."
The acknowledged engagement between Bingley and Miss Bennet gave them leave to call directly following breakfast. When they were admitted to the Longbourn sitting room, Darcy saw a hint of a scowl on Mrs. Bennet's forehead and wondered at it. "Mr. Bingley," she simpered, "why, have you come again, sir? But of course you could not stay away from Jane." To Darcy she offered the barest smile. "And good afternoon to you, sir."
Familiar as he was with Elizabeth's expressions, Darcy saw the amusement in her eyes. He wished he might approach her, but would that give away their attachment? Suddenly, every action carried more weight than it had before.
In the end, it was Bingley who greeted her first. "Miss Elizabeth, you are looking quite fine today. The fresh air yesterday must have been good for you."
Elizabeth took his hand but looked at Darcy, and he nodded in acknowledgement at the question in her eyes. She smiled then at Bingley and said, "Indeed, Mr. Bingley, I have scarcely enjoyed a walk more."
Darcy's face warmed and he resisted the urge to loosen his cravat. The laughter in Bingley's eyes when he glanced at him told Darcy his friend knew exactly how he felt, and took great pleasure in his discomfort.
However, Darcy's glare lost its heat when Bingley turned to Mr. Bennet and said, "Mr. Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again today?"
Mrs. Bennet answered before her husband could. "I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty, to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view."
Darcy bit back a sigh. The plan was not quite to his liking. Thankfully, Bingley was on hand to smooth everything over. "It may do very well for the others, but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won't it, Kitty?"
The girl agreed, but it was her father Darcy watched. The shrewd man raised an eyebrow at Bingley's none-too-subtle handling of the players, and Darcy knew it would not be long before he pieced together Bingley's remarks with his own disappearance with Elizabeth the previous afternoon. I shall have to apply for his consent this evening, then.
Once they were well away from the house, Darcy broached the subject with Elizabeth. "If it is acceptable with you, my dear, I should like to speak with your father after dinner."
Elizabeth looked at him with some amazement, and Darcy could easily understand why. He had always been such a picture of restraint that he himself was surprised by his impatience. But now, even without Bingley's lack of discretion, he should not wish to hold his joy privately. "Given Bingley's comments this morning, I imagine he already understands more than we are aware," he said, "and I should prefer to tell him myself, up front. Do you not agree, Elizabeth?"
"Yes, of course." He heard a note of anxiety in her voice, which she explained the next moment. "Do let me speak to my mother, however."
Darcy smiled. "That is a pleasure I shall gladly relinquish to you."
She smiled saucily. "Oh, do not think you shall escape unscathed, sir. I cannot promise she will ever approve of you, but your houses and lands she will hold in the highest esteem."
"So I have been warned by Bingley," Darcy agreed, taking Elizabeth's hand to help her over a log that had fallen in the path. He was absurdly pleased when she did not attempt to reclaim it afterwards.
"Yes, how did the revelation to Mr. Bingley occur?"
"In much the same manner as yours to your sister, I imagine," Darcy retorted.
Elizabeth laughed and pulled away to run the last few yards up the hill. "Look at the view!" she exclaimed, her eyes roving over the landscape below. "Have you ever seen such beauty?"
"Never," Darcy vowed.
Elizabeth glanced over at him and smiled self-consciously when she realized he looked not at the hills of Hertfordshire, but at her own countenance, now flushed with e
xercise and what he hoped was happiness.
"In truth, I can think of one place better," Elizabeth told him. "Pemberley must be the most perfect place on earth." She smiled, and Darcy wondered what would next come out of her charmingly pert mouth. "Jane asked me last night when I first knew I loved you, and I told her it was the moment I saw Pemberley."
Her smile faltered when he did not answer. "Mr. Darcy? I assure you, I was not in earnest, sir."
To hear her say so freely and naturally that she loved him affected Darcy more than he had anticipated, and his hands shook from a desire to touch Elizabeth. When he could finally trust his voice, he said, "I believe we should turn back, Elizabeth."
"Turn back? But we only just arrived."
"Yes, but if we stay any longer, I will not be able to keep from kissing you."
Elizabeth's eyes widened at this bold declaration, but she did not look away, and his resolve was sorely tested. "Come, Miss Elizabeth--back to the house," he said firmly. "The walk is long enough that we shall likely find dinner waiting for us."
She set off down the hill and he followed a few steps after. "Do walk beside me, Mr. Darcy," she requested. "There is one matter further which we have not discussed."
"And what is that?" Darcy asked when he reached his rightful place by her side.
"The small matter of a wedding date, sir."
"What did you and Miss Bennet decide upon last night?" Darcy asked, and then chuckled at the look she gave him. "Come, Elizabeth, she is your sister. Of course you discussed it together."
"We did," she confessed.
"And?"
"Jane and I always imagined standing up for each other at our weddings."
"And I cannot think of a gentleman besides Bingley whom I should want at mine," Darcy answered. "So we are to have a double ceremony with Bingley and your sister."
"So long as that suits you, my dear."
Darcy drew in a deep, satisfied sigh. "Elizabeth, so long as the day concludes with you as my wife, I care little for the details." Elizabeth's only answer was to take his arm once more.
When they reached Longbourn, the sun was already setting. Darcy's prediction was proven correct; dinner had been laid out and their arrival was all that was wanting. Bingley glanced over at him and Darcy smiled in reply, but further discourse must wait until they were alone.
Dinner seemed an interminable affair. Darcy could not eat from nerves and was reduced to subtly rearranging the food on his plate to give the appearance of an appetite. As soon as he saw Mr. Bennet leave the table after dinner, Darcy followed him into the library.
Mr. Bennet turned with some surprise when he realized he was not alone. "Mr. Darcy, is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes, sir." Darcy surreptitiously wiped his palms on his breeches and said, "I should like to have your consent to marry your daughter."
Mr. Bennet stared. "Which one? You shall have to specify."
Darcy raised an eyebrow at this odd remark, but he obliged Mr. Bennet. "Miss Elizabeth, sir. I have asked for her hand, and she accepted."
Mr. Bennet sat down, hard. "Elizabeth accepted you?"
Darcy refused to flinch, though the incredulity in the man's voice rubbed salt in an old wound. "Indeed she did, sir, yesterday afternoon."
Mr. Bennet looked at Darcy over steepled hands. "That is where you were when you were getting lost."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Darcy, I realize I need not ask if you have the means to provide for a wife." Mr. Bennet fixed him with a stern glare. "However, pecuniary gain has never been Elizabeth's goal, nor is it mine for her. I will not have my favorite child sacrifice her happiness at the altar of wealth and position."
"And she will not, sir. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make Elizabeth happy for the rest of her life."
Mr. Bennet crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "She has accepted you, you say?" he asked a second time.
"She has."
"Very well then, I cannot do any less. I give you my consent, Mr. Darcy."
"Thank you, sir."
Mr. Bennet held up his hand. "Do not thank me yet. I wish to see Elizabeth now, if you please."
Darcy shook his hand and wondered at the odd turn of phrase. It was only when he reached the drawing room that he realized Mr. Bennet's meaning. He hopes to change her mind!
One glance at Elizabeth calmed his spirits, for he could clearly see a love in her eyes that would not be easily overturned. When he was near enough to speak without being overheard, he said, "Go to your father; he wants you in the library." She flushed and rose from her seat.
Darcy looked around the room and saw Bingley sitting on the other side beside Jane. Both returned his gaze with varying degrees of sympathy, Jane all smiles and Bingley with a wide smirk across his face. He made his way over to them and waited for Elizabeth's return. It was so long in coming that he began to worry that her father had convinced her he did not deserve her. Finally, however, she appeared, and the smile on her face reassured him that no such disaster had befallen him.
Darcy's reception the following morning told him that all the members of the household were now aware of their engagement. Mrs. Bennet watched him in silent awe, but the rest of the family was effusive in their outpourings of good wishes. If only I could guarantee it would remain this way, Darcy thought, eyeing his future mother-in-law.
It did not. As dinner progressed that evening, her natural garrulous behavior overcame her reverence for his income, and she began to pay those little compliments he so despised. "Oh my. Mr. Darcy, it is such a pleasure... I never knew... Would you care for the potatoes, sir? Kitty, for heaven's sake, pass the potatoes! Do you not know he has ten thousand a year?"
Darcy caught Elizabeth's eye across the table and they both took a quick swig from their water goblets to hide their laughter.
Kitty was not so wise. "I do not see why his fortune should mean he receives the potatoes any sooner than the rest of us," she complained, and Darcy bowed his head.
"Kitty! Hold your tongue! Mr. Darcy, I do apologize for my daughter. She does not know..."
"Mrs. Bennet, there is no apology necessary. Miss Catherine is quite correct; I do not require any special treatment. After all, you are soon to be my family."
The lady of the house dropped her fork and looked at him, all astonishment. "Why... Mr. Darcy... that is... Why, I have always said Lizzy could not be so clever without reason."
Mr. Bennet rose from his seat. "When my wife has expressed all her gratitude, sir, you may join me in the library for a glass of port."
Between the two gentlemen there now subsisted a most genial understanding. Mr. Bennet had approached Darcy on his arrival at Longbourn that afternoon. "Mr. Darcy, I understand I owe the marriage of not just one, but two, of my daughters to you."
Darcy knew immediately what he meant. "I beg you not to think of it, sir."
"No! This will never do!" Mr. Bennet cried. "Not think of the greatest kindness which has ever been done my family? You must allow me to repay you."
"Never!" Darcy declared. "What I did, I did for Elizabeth, and that, sir, requires no payment."
"Well-spoken, Mr. Darcy. I think we will deal together quite nicely, though you are a great deal too sensible for my taste."
Thankfully, the next day was free of the attentions from Elizabeth's family. Jane and Bingley were sequestered in one corner of the sitting room and he and Elizabeth were in the opposite corner. Ostensibly, both couples were acting as chaperones to the other, though in practice no one paid attention to anyone but their own lover.
Darcy held Elizabeth's hand in his own, and the way she absently traced patterns on the back of his hand drove him to distraction. "I have a question for you, my dear," she said.
He recognized the playful tone in her voice and hid his smile. "Yes, Elizabeth?"
"I wish you to tell me how you ever fell in love with me." He heard her amusement and waited for her to continue. "How could you
begin? I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?"
There was much he did not know about Elizabeth, but he began to think she voiced these outrageous opinions in order to hide how deeply she truly felt on the subject. Despite her laughter, he suspected she honestly wished an answer, and so he considered for a moment. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun."
Her next words gave him more insight into her mind, and he cursed his own wayward tongue. "My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behavior to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?"